She's a little touchy about vampires
by screamo nemo
Summary: In which we absolutely DO NOT mention vampires around Valkyrie. A very professional contract killer who's bite is worse than his bark has been assigned a job from a wealthy criminal, a very straightforward task - kill Skulduggery and his friends, but bring back Valkyrie alive. Meanwhile Skulduggery is told to investigate a series of murders that are all completely identical.


**Author's note:**

Hey guys! If you made it this far I hope you take the time to read this,  
Disclaimer I do not in any way own the original characters or character qualities which i attempt to mimic in each of them individually of the Skulduggery Pleasant series.  
This is rated M for a reason, it will contain fighting, killing, crime solving, a hell of alot of sarcasm and blunt wit, and probably some torture and/or character bashing, because that's the Derek Landy way.  
I'm keeping the foul language to a minimum ONLY because that's not very in sync with most of the characters' personas that Derek Landy has given them. Seriously, not many of them swear so it kills the imitation if I have them running their mouths like a sailor.  
Also, this is my first fic, so please, R&R, any and all criticism, positive or negative, constructive or pointless flame, is welcome. If chapter one gets some decent attention I'll post a second chapter :) enjoy!

**Chapter 1: **

Valkyrie grunted as a bootheel collided with her stomach, giving off a resounding thud, which was swiftly followed by a crack as a fist connected with her jaw, sending Valkyrie sprawling. From behind her came a voice asking if she was alright. Exactly who's voice that was, took a while to process as Valkyrie's ears rang and vision swam. She shook her head clear, and got on all fours, letting herself regain her senses. She looked around her, finally coming back to the world. Tanith stood before her, grinning, leaning against the taut ropes which enclosed off an area in a box shape. Shakily Valkyrie got herself to her feet, before getting a sudden rush to the head. Dizziness overwhelmed her, and stumbling forward, she grabbed at the ropes for support. "Had enough?" Tanith asked, holding out her hand. Valkyrie nodded, gratefully taking the proffered grace. Using Tanith for support, they exited the sparring ring.

"Looks like I'm late to the party" Skulduggery emerged from the singular doorway that led into the room. It was spacious, with only the sparring ring, a booth to watch the fighting from, and another door that lead into a locker room that probably hadn't been opened in years. Valkyrie gaped at him "Where've you been? I had to go three rounds because you and Ghastly didn't show up!" "I've been admiring myself and reflecting on how good I am at my job." "YOU- WHA- I-" Valkyrie spluttered, "You don't have a job! And since when was self admiration put before ME?! I could have died-" "but you didn't" "BUT I COULD'VE" "But you didn't, you're here in ship shape condition and ready to go detectiving! Which happens to be my job." "SHIP SHAPE? I LOOK LIKE I'VE BEEN THROUGH A WAR!" "Skulduggery, perhaps you could go order something for us to eat, It's been a long day and something tells me downtime is in order" Tanith cut in, leading a grumbling Valkyrie off hastily. "But I don't even eat-" "Woman's tuition, Skulduggery. I'm VERY STRONGLY suggesting food. Fast." And with that she spun on her heel, following after Val, who hadn't bothered to wait, and leaving behind a skeleton of a man whom, if he had lips she'd be able to tell you whether he was smirking or bewildered. Probably both.

From a distance, watching through a window atop the roof of a multiple storied building, stood a pale, thin lipped man clad in a simple, black shirt, fitted three quarter pants that were elastic at the bottom end so as not to have loose clothing. He despised loose clothing. Tall, heavy, steel capped boots covered the rest of his legs that the pants did not, and he shook them, to double check he'd slotted a metal sheet into the shin of the boot, much like a shin pad used in some of the sports he'd watched. He adjusted his trench coat and checked the equipment hidden on the inside of it, doing a quick stock count of what he'd brought. His sharp ears heard shouting, and looked up to see once again what was going on through the window, as a girl yelled at a tall, very thin man, almost skeletal like. He observed the spectacle with keen eyes, taking in the situation before him until they left the room. He took out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. It was a letter with a specific set of instructions. Although the letter was long, it skipped pleasantries and cut straight to the chase. That was how he liked it. Simple, to the point, and professional. He was, after all, a professional man, he didn't have time to waste with familiarizing with clients, he got a contract, went in, did the deed, and sunk in to the night with a head in a bag. Sleek, silent and swift. He frowned, checking his watch. A time for the arranged letter said 22:35. It was now 22:40 and still no sign of his contact. He liked punctuality. Of course he did, "he's a professional" he reminded himself, with a smirk. The smirk grew in to a toothy grin as he heard footsteps behind him. Ah, his contact. The grin widened at the sound of a case clunking to the ground, revealing long, sharp fangs toward the corners of his front row of teeth. Ah, the money. He spun around, tinted glasses gleaming in the moonlight and wide brimmed hat masking his face mysteriously;

"Welcome Mister Abraxas! My my, haven't we brought along just the jolliest bunch with us today, Mister Abraxas?" He gestured towards the three large, motionless guards surrounding Abraxas. They were armed, and clearly felt the need to show it. A very visible machete and a sig sauer p229 on one man, dual beretta's on another, what types he couldn't exactly make out, a Px4 and a U22, perhaps. And the one standing closest to him, and in front of Mr. Abraxas, was clenching an mp9 tightly in his hands, safety off, he noticed. Not that it mattered to him. Their bullets would sting and distract, but they wouldn't do much good if the deal turned nasty. But the guards knew that, didn't they? They knew they would die, and only serve as a chance for Abraxas' getaway. But that's the kind of protection money can buy.

Abraxas cleared his throat, "yes, well. Doesn't hurt to be safe, recklessness isn't what got me into the place I am today."  
Smile widened. "And neither did small talk, I'm sure. So, to business?"  
"Indeed. Now, as you can see, I have very deep pockets, and deep pockets offer the luxury of sating very deep desires. And I so very deeply desire for some people in this world to no longer be a part of it, and one person in particular to become a part of mine."  
He raised a brow as the guard to the left knelt down and opened up the briefcase to show it packed fully with tidy notes, separated in to wads of what must have been ten thousand apiece. That kind of money meant one hell of a job.  
"Of course, for a desire like this to be sated, I must go to the people I'm told are the best at assisting me in this matter, which is why I've come to you, mister...?"  
"Venatoris. Venatoris Lamia."  
"Mister Venatoris Lamia, I like to make it clear and simple. I want skulduggery and all of his friends dead. Except for the one called Valkyrie. I want her brought to me alive."

**Authors**** note:****  
**What did you think? Please please PLEASE R&R so I know what I did wrong, there's no such thing as getting writing right on the first try! Longer chapters will be incoming later~


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